Tuesday, December 13, 2016

It’s been 63 days since I made the choice to make my sexuality
public. 63 days of waiting for the welcoming committee, the bi-big sis or the
gay genie. Still NOTHING. When you come out as a teen, the resources available
to you are abundant. In addition to peers, most schools and youth groups today have
some type of support and comradery. The road for these kids is painful and dark
at times, but they are not alone. This is not the case when you are 41, divorced
and living in suburbia. I am lucky to not feel afraid or threatened. I am not worried
that I will be disowned or thrown out of my house. For that I feel blessed. But
I am so very alone.

Where are my mentors? Where are my peers? Where are the “others”
who’ve successfully navigated this road at my age and come through on the other
side at peace? Where is the FUCKING roadmap?

In the days leading up to my publishing All
of the Things I Am, two of my heroes Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat Pray Love) and
Glennon Doyle Melton (Love Warrior) also came out. I’ve spent sleepless nights
crafting my letter to them, asking for entry into their squad. Dear Liz and
Glen, are you’re the big sisters I’ve been searching for? Pretty sure I’d be
tagged as stalkerish. I’ve scoured the
internet and local resources for support groups and so few seem to apply. It’s
like writing an old school personal ad – Bisexual, 41 year old mom seeking
bi-mentor for long talks, too much wine and late night panic attacks. Only
those with well-traveled road maps need apply. Sounds awesome.

The best is when someone I don’t know well says “wait, I
thought you had a boyfriend?” I do. He’s amazing, kind, patient and tries
endlessly to be my shoulder - but there’s a limit to how much a straight man
can do. That’s the idea you see. I have always fallen for men and women. I just
chose the easy path for almost 40 years and kept half of those feelings to
myself.

One of my dearest friends and my therapist are both
convinced that if I look hard enough, I’ll find a local support group. They
might be right, but the searching alone is exhausting. When I went to college I
was assigned a buddy. Joined a sorority and given a big sis. Started a new job
and was paired with a mentor. So why the hell not for this?!?! Is that too much
to ask? Do you have any idea how many questions I have?

Remember when you were pregnant or your partner was and you
were deluged with “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” and “Your Pregnancy.”
But then a friend who really knew you and loved you enough shared
their battered copy of “The Girlfriend’s Guide to Pregnancy,” and shit got real.
And guess what? Vicki Iovine built an empire. From pregnancy, through child
rearing, to her inevitable divorce – there was a guide! So where is the
Girlfriend’s Guide to Coming Out at 41?? Is it really too much to ask for? I
have searched high and low for a website, a book, or a guru and found little.

Someone recently suggested that the mother of invention is identifying
a need and filling it – “you should write the book.” Are you kidding? I am
seeking the tome, the bible, the encyclopedia here people. I cannot write what
I do not even fully understand. Besides, my life is exhausting enough. I barely
have time in my day to read what I seek, much less to write it. Instead, I wait
eagerly for my imaginary squad (are you listening Elizabeth and Glennon?) to
write their next books, which I just know will be everything I’ve been missing.
No pressure, ladies.

In the meantime I struggle with the fact that anyone who
doesn’t know me well assumes my straight and it’s often too awkward to correct
them. I struggle that I find myself feeling
defensive when I shouldn’t and offensive when it’s me with the issue. So that’s
fun too.

So yeah, all I want for Hanukkah is a guide or a Sherpa. And
if 2017 arrives and he/she is nowhere to be found – dammit, I’m starting my own
group. Is there an app for that?